Living and Loving
by Sage.Meryllis.Banks
Summary: This is a drabble series that centers around the VA gang, especially Rose and Dimitri. They will be funny, happy, sad, angsty, contemplative, and so much more. There will be un-prompted and prompted drabbles, so feel free to send in prompts (a word or a phrase, no more) through reviews or PMs. If you do, please leave a name!
1. Nazar

**I'm back, my darlings! Happy Easter to anyone who celebrates. Thanks for sticking with me in my absence. I had a great time in Greece and Turkey :D**

**A VERY long drabble/oneshot to make up for the time I was gone. This is another one of my takes on how Abe and Janine met; it's completely different from what's said in Bittersweet Doppelgänger. (Which version is head-canon, then?)  
****I just really love both Abe and Janine. There will probably be quite a few Abe-related drabbles coming; Istanbul gave me a lot of ideas for him.**

**Drabble: Nazar  
****Janine POV**

Lord Igor Szelsky, Guardian Janine Hathaway's charge, was a world-traveling businessman. She went everywhere he went, following him as a dutiful guardian.

This time, he was making a deal with two Turkish Moroi in Istanbul. Their names were Aslan Ahmed and Ibrahim Mazur, two very prominent traders who were both in their early twenties and had managed to make names for themselves despite not being royal.

Lord Szelsky and his guardians arrived in Istanbul three days early; besides the business deal, Istanbul was home to many tourist attractions.

"I only need two guardians," Igor said to the three dhampirs following behind him at the airport. "I'll give each of you a day off each before the meeting. You can explore the city yourselves."

Janine technically got the first day off, but the two other Moroi- who were Turkish but lived far from the nation's capital- had also arrived at the hotel early in the hopes of discovering the wonders of Istanbul. And as non-royals, they did not have guardians with them; Igor Szelsky offered the men his free guardian of the day for protection while traveling around the city.

Instantly, Janine could tell that although Aslan and Ibrahim were very close, they were very different. Aslan was subdued and wore a dark suit of navy blue, whereas Ibrahim was more outgoing in his light gray tux and brilliant crimson tie and ascot. The colors contrasted sharply with his deeply tanned handsome face and his dark hair. He did most of the speaking with Lord Szelsky, generally laughed more, and would look in the guardians' directions every so often, grinning brightly as he did so.

After all the introductions were made and her charge handed his guardian off to the two men, Janine followed Aslan and Ibrahim back to their hotel room and waited outside for them to make their preparations to go into the city. She went with them to the Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, the Topkapi Palace, and deep into the recesses of the noisy, crowded Grand Bazaar.

As she passed by the countless small shops of the Bazaar, trailing a few steps behind the two Moroi men, Janine noticed a number of blue eye-like trinkets made of glass glinting from a number of windows. They varied in shape and ornament, from simple keychains the size of crabapples to wall hangings decorated with silver filigree the size of her head.

"What are these?" She asked a shopkeeper, motioning to the glass eyes.

"They are the nazar," he replied in heavily accented English. "Charms to er... keep away the- the Evil Eye."

Janine nodded thoughtfully to herself. "Nazar." They were quite beautiful, actually. But all she had was one lira she had picked up in the streets, and there was no way she- inexperienced at bargaining, to say the least- could haggle a charm down to that price. The smallest ones were listed at four lira.

"I'm sorry," Janine apologized. "I have no money. I'll come back tomorrow." Unlikely, unless she got the next day off too.

The shopkeeper waved her off. Obviously, he wasn't interested in anyone who wasn't paying. However, as Janine turned away from the shop and stepped back into the hustle and bustle of the main crowds, she noticed Ibrahim carefully examine a necklace pendant from the shelf of nazars she had just been looking at.

Why would he want to buy a necklace like that? Janine wondered. She found it hard to believe that he would wear it, even though its eccentricity would be lost amid his countless gold jewelry pieces. Perhaps it was for his girlfriend, a souvenir gift. She paused, watching him bargain with the shopkeeper in rapid Turkish until they finally seemed to come to an agreement. Coins changed hands, the necklace was wrapped in a small bag, and Ibrahim pocketed it. Ignoring Aslan's questioning look at the purchase, he continued strolling through the bazaar.

That night, the three of them settled into a quaint restaurant to eat. The poof of cushions Janine was seated in and the low table they read the menus on reminded her of the childhood tea parties she threw- comfortable and safe. It had been a while since she felt that way; a while since she hadn't felt so burdened with responsibility.

When they finished ordering, both men stood up to use the bathroom. No, wait- Aslan was heading towards the bathroom, but Ibrahim was walking someplace behind her.  
Suddenly, she stiffened as she felt warm fingers brush aside the strands of cropped hair at her neck and slowly place something cool and metallic around her collarbone. The gentle fingers lingered at the top of her spine, the hair-raising feel of them on her skin sending tremors down her back. And then they left.

Looking down, she saw that what had been placed at the base of her neck was the nazar pendant Ibrahim had bought earlier that day, tiny and elegantly set in silver.

_What_? He had bought the necklace for- for _her_? But who was she to him? Just a lowly guardian woman he had barely spoken a word to. Why would he give it to her? There had to be a mistake. She ducked her head, feeling a brilliant blush creep up on her cheeks.

He returned to his spot at the table and sat back down. Catching her questioning, confused gaze, he grinned crookedly. "I saw you looking."

If possible, her face grew even hotter than before and an embarrassed smile played on her lips. "Th-thank you, Mr. Mazur," she mumbled.

"Oh, call me Ibrahim. Or Abe, if you prefer. Both are fine," he said carelessly, a Turkish lilt lacing his words. "Anyway, you've been following me around all day without complaint, even though you're not my guardian. So I thought that someone like you deserved something."

"Someone like me," Janine repeated. She supposed that it was his euphemistic way to put 'faceless, nameless, tireless guardian'.

"Someone like you," Ibrahim agreed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his grin grew wider. "A beautiful, brave, selfless woman like you. And you deserve more than a life of serving others."

Janine never took the necklace off, not until the day she gave it to her nearly-grown daughter. It was a memory that she kept precious- the man who loved her, who saw more of her than the fumbling, awkward girl struggling to find her way, more of her than the hard-faced guardian who was yet just another machine to be used until it broke down.

That was why she had given the necklace to Rose. Because in the world they lived in, Janine wished that the best option wasn't the one she had chosen for her. They, as female dhampirs, could have taken another path that was free of hardship and pain, but also of the essential responsibilities they assumed every day. And she knew they couldn't do that, because honor required sacrifice. To know what came first.

So sometimes, she wished that love, not duty, came first.

**Regret and sadness are the most powerful literary emotions, in my opinion. Fear might be the most powerful human emotion, but it's hard to convey it through words because that's vicarious, not personal. And so I love this drabble because it deals with very strong emotions.**

**The lyrics I am listening to while typing this are "When I touch your hair for the first time, shivers roll down your spine." LIKE DO YOU KNOW WHAT I AM WRITING RIGHT NOW, MUSIC PLAYLIST? Creepy stalker. Oh my god, this song's lyrics are perfect for Janine and Abe. "Lovelorn Letter" by Raven Zoe, Mood Robot remix. Review and someone you love will make you feel special :)**


	2. Us

**Who's read the latest chapter of When the Lights Go Down by Lorelei Candor? I can tell you that we both worked super hard on it (her much more so than me). To be honest, it's my favorite chapter yet.**

**Drabble: Us  
****RPOV**

There was an encounter Rose had once had with Adrian that she had never had the guts to tell him about, even all these years later. She knew he didn't remember it at all; he had been drunk out of his mind at the time.

* * *

After she sufficiently recovered from being shot to be walking on her own (but still not well enough to be on guardian duty), Rose took to strolling around the lush lawns and gardens of Court, simply taking in the sights. Especially when Dimitri was busy. It was so peaceful that it was almost boring, but she'd had almost enough of exciting things. The proof of that was the scar on her chest.

One day, however, she found _him_, with his usual tousled brown hair and expensive clothing, sprawled out on a bench as if asleep. Closer inspection revealed that he was inebriated to the point that he couldn't stand up.

"Adrian?" Rose murmured softly, touching his hair. He started a bit, his unfocused gaze wandering a bit before it found the general direction of her face.

"Ah, lil' dhampir," he slurred. "Nice seein'... seein' you here! Y'know… I got a crazy story to tell you. I met this girl who…"

She froze. He'd met a girl? It wasn't that she was upset about this, on the contrary, she'd be happy for him. If she believed what he was saying, because in his current state, there was no way he could possibly have gotten the respectful attention of any girl.

"... She's got this… beau'ful tan skin… 'mazin' brown eyes. A real stunner. But thas'… nothing compared to… to whas' inside… She's sharp as a thorn. Fights like one too."

Rose blanched. "No, Adrian, no… that's not- she's not-"

"Thorns hurt," he muttered. "Pierced my heart… she did. Shoulda known… the rose always comes wih' thorns."

"Adrian, no, I can't- I couldn't stay with you."

"The rose… liar, Rose."

"I know, I suck," Rose whispered, tilting her head up towards the sky. "I care so much about you. I'm a fucking terrible person for not caring more about us… when I still had the chance. And I know… I know I might never-" She gasped, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I might never get to talk to you again. I might never find the guts to look you in the eye… unless we're across a room filled with people that are so much less important than you. And I'm so grateful that you loved me, even though you knew I couldn't give you what you really wanted. And that night we spent... you held me safe until morning."

Next to her, Adrian made a tiny incoherent noise. Rose turned to look at him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady and deep- he'd passed out.

"I love you, Adrian," she said, tracing her fingers along his cheek. "But I can't be sorry."

**I've never written Rose in third person. It's so weird :P  
****This is not canon. Considering how she ended things with Adrian, Rose probably wouldn't be this guilty. I had to write it, though. Check out Love Love Love by Of Monsters and Men to see where I got this one.**

**Also, I'm thinking of starting Bittersweet Doppelganger up again. Haven't done much planning yet. I want to completely rewrite it.**


	3. Pain

**It's near midnight and I just got back from a two-day road trip. I wrote this on the car ride home.**

**Drabble: Pain  
****DPOV**

I had been stationed at St. Vladimir's Academy for a while now, and knew it pretty well. I'd found all the secret, quiet spots; the rooftop hideouts and the alley sneakaways that were the perfect place to escape to when you wanted to have a private rendezvous with a special someone (which was what the students preferred to do, not me) or just wanted to spend some time alone.

Coming to one of these secluded nooks now, I was surprised to find someone already there.

She sat on the roof's ledge, looking out towards the grassy square in front of the administrative building. Her wavy, dark brown hair, beautiful as always, cascaded down to mid-back and hid her face from view. She was dressed in dark jeans and a black thermal shirt, an ensemble I commonly saw on her.

I made my way to the ledge, hopped onto it, and sat down beside her. My duster billowed lightly in the cool March breeze.

She swung her legs slowly, heels bumping lightly against the brick walls of the building.

"Hey, comrade. Seems like you've found my little hiding spot."

I laughed. "I thought this was my personal retreat. I didn't know anyone else came up here."

"Mason and I found this when we were in seventh grade. It was like we'd discovered Narnia or something. We felt like royalty up here."

"There certainly is a feeling of grandeur, isn't there?" I surveyed our surroundings, the campus' Gothic-style architecture paired with Montana evergreens. It was as if we sat on top of the world.

"It feels strange without him," Rose said in a small voice. "I keep on looking around, searching for something. Like something's missing, but then..."

"You realize it's him." My throat constricted. The light, carefree air that had been surrounding me dissipated.

"Yeah," she mumbled. "Sometimes I don't even think I've registered the fact that he's gone."

"It was like that with me too, when I lost Ivan. I'd wake up and expect to hear his snoring in the adjacent bedroom... but it's quiet instead. And I'm here, not in Saint Petersburg." I look up at the clouds, remembering how I had explored the city with Ivan.

Rose sighed. "Recovery isn't as easy as I thought it was."

"It's not," I agreed.

"It still hurts so much," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. Tears dripped onto her lap. "He's been gone for a month now and I miss him just as much as I used to. It shouldn't feel this way... Am I weak, Dimitri? If I were stronger, I wouldn't be feeling this much pain. There wouldn't be-"

"No, no," I murmured soothingly, wrapping my arms around her small shoulders. "You're definitely not weak. Strength isn't being impervious to pain, Roza. It's knowing that pain and knowing that you'll have to experience that pain for a very long time, but still keeping your heart open so you can feel love and happiness and freedom and... still even more pain. I am twenty-four years old and it's been six years since my first kill, but I still dream about it. It still hurts. But it's worth it, because that's life. That's what it means to be human, to feel."

She laughed a weak, watery laugh. "I think that was one of your best Zen life lessons yet."

I smiled, tucking strands of her dark tresses behind her ears. "Thanks. I do try, after all. For you."

It wasn't what I would have liked to say, but it was the most that I could allow for now.

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**I may have a little surprise for you guys coming in the next few days... keep your eyes peeled and give me a follow!**

**There weren't many reviews for the last chapter :( but a special thank you to those who did: curligirl0896, jessica. dangerfield. 9, and BethIsMyName.**

**If you review this chapter, I'll give you a little sneak peek for what's in progress ;)**


	4. So Many

Sometimes she feels like she should hate that American girl. For crashing into the house like a bullet train wreck, for shattering their lives.

But even after all these years, she can barely hate Randall, much less anyone else. There's a certain numbness that comes with thinking about him, like every thought's delivered alongside a shot of morphine. That's how she likes to see it, because she really, really wants to hate him.

Maybe it's because Dimitri looks so much like him, and she could never hate her son. And maybe, she decides for herself, knowing that she should hate him is enough. Even so, she tries to find the hate in her, tries to pick apart plastered walls and tear down boarded-up pathways in her mind, and she looks and she looks.

She stops for a bit when Rose comes around, takes a break. The girl's had enough thrown at her already, and besides, they've lost the same person. (Well. That isn't entirely true. But that's beside the point.) Instead, she focuses on when Ivan died, two years before her own son did.

Ivan's mother is the only Moroi woman other than Oksana whom Olena knows. There were the girls at school, and there were the ladies in nursing school with her, but that was an era in her life that she tries not to dwell on. Her name is Kate and she goes by Katya after living in Novosibirsk for so long, and their conversations are a mix of accented English on Olena's part and even more accented Russian on Katya's. Ivan was the only child she ever had, though that couldn't be said for her husband, who wasn't the most faithful of men. And he'd had the years of carousing that most royal Moroi men did before marriage, the years before they weren't young enough anymore to blame not settling down on hot-bloodedness.

It's funny, Olena thinks, that Katya and she are the two types of women to hate each other, one for being her husband's past and the other for being her lover's future. But then again, we've established that Olena's seen too much to hate anyone with too much fervor.

Two weeks after Rose leaves, Katya comes to visit. The box of old clothes and jewelry she brings is small this time.

"I just wanted to see you, really," she says, with a shrug of her shoulders. "But take the box. I'll bring something bigger next time."

Here's the thing about Katya- she's apologetic about all the wrong things.

"Your son," Katya begins. "I'm… sorry, I guess."

See?

Olena shakes her head. "Well, at least I know how you felt when- how you feel about Ivan."

There's something hard in Katya's eyes as she stares at Olena, something derisive and bitter. "Olena. Ivan was my only son."

"So was Dimitri," Olena replies softly, reaching for Katya's hand. "I- I think people forget that sometimes. Because the girls are so loud, and he was so quiet. Because I have so many."

"I'm- I'm so sorry." Katya's face is white, and she grips Olena's hand with a manic intensity.

She isn't quite sure in which category that apology falls, but she nods anyway, because what does it matter?

"I said before that people always forget, didn't I?"

That's when they really, really become friends.

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**I was actually considering posting this as a separate, stand-alone oneshot because it's been so long (so fucking long!) since I updated anything and I definitely don't like a lot of the stuff I've written in the past, but decided against that since there wasn't any particular plot to this and because more people are following Living and Loving, anyway. It's good to make a little comeback, anyhow. Can't say that I'll post anything else soon, but I pumped this out in about half an hour despite months of creative block, so maybe that says something about the future. Note: my Tumblr URL is sage-the-empress so if any of you wondered whether I was dead, then you don't have to anymore because I basically live on my dash.**


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